


Comfort

by craftingkatie



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 14:28:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4610184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craftingkatie/pseuds/craftingkatie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexandria provides a haven; Daryl provides-and seeks- comfort.</p>
<p>*Written with Beth in mind, but no names are mentioned. AU for this reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort

It was the fifth time she had sought comfort-protection? Warmth? Someone breathing next to her in the night?- by seeking him out in the night. Alexandria meant beds, meant separate houses for them all. She had unobtrusively rigged it so she wound up with him. She tiptoed into the room Carol had bullied him into claiming and stopped about a foot from the bed.

"Daryl?" She whispered into the night. There were street lights here. It was like the old world trying to exist in the new world of horrors. He was huddled into himself, as uncomfortable on the large bed as the others were on the bare ground that had most nights been their bed. "Daryl, you awake?" He shifted a bit and she figured his eyes to be open and staring at the opposite wall, waiting as always to see when the boot would fall. "Can I.... Like last time? Please?" She hadn't been able to complete her sentence the last time either.

It was too hard to beg for comfort in a world that had made them all too hard to be weak. She needed a moment of relief but she would be damned before she would beg- even from Daryl, who held more of the groups’ secrets then he let on. The shape on the bed shifted, closer to the furthest edge and a grunt of assent.

The wordless invitation was all she needed. She climbed in slowly behind him, having learned the first time she tried that he needed to be awake and aware of her presence or she would wind up skewered (she still had the scar on her shoulder but she didn't blame him none, he coulda aimed better and she would be dead). Once on the bed, laying facing his back, she pressed up against him. She had always wondered about spooning, in the world before. It had seemed embarrassing and unnecessary. Even now, it was a sissy word for such a comforting act. Her face pressed against his vest-seriously the thing needed a washing but it smelled familiar- her hand wrapped around him. He was tense and she was fluid, melting against his hard angles until she felt him lean into her presence.

"This town is fucked up. Feels wrong." He spoke to the wall. She squeezed his hip.

"Feels wrong cause you don't want to stop punishing yourself." He tensed again, but she soothed her hand up his side. "Hush. I don't wanna fight and I didn't mean anything by it really. Just meant you should relax and try to rest is all." She pressed a kiss to his shoulder and tried to close her eyes and follow her own advice.

She felt his decision to turn before he started to move, the mattress dipping as he angled around.  
"Need to. ..." He trailed off, his arm tentatively reaching towards her. She shifted closer, balled a hand in his shirt in approval as he pulled her close and buried his head in her shoulder. He took a deep shuddering breath and squeezed her tight, as if their connection was the only thing keeping him tethered, before he relaxed again.

She figured sometimes they all needed a little comfort.


End file.
